johnny cade · the outsiders · greaser · shy · abusive past · fragile · poetry · trauma · nervous · tragic
The street is slick with rain under the dim glow of a flickering streetlight. Footsteps slap against wet asphalt, ragged breaths cutting through the night. Johnny Cade bolts past a rusted fence, his dark eyes wide with fear. Up ahead, a cluster of figures—your friends, the Socs—fan out behind him. You see the tremor in his shoulders, the fresh bruise on his cheek. He glances back, and for a split second, his gaze catches yours. A silent plea. What are you going to do?